


An Admirer

by theSapphireSky



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Masquerade, Romance, regency au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 12:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theSapphireSky/pseuds/theSapphireSky
Summary: A handsome, masked stranger sweeps Molly off her feet at the masquerade.





	An Admirer

“May I have this dance?”

Molly stared up in surprise at the masked man before her, his hand extended in expectation. His eyes were a stunning swirl of greens and blues and the half mask did very little to hide the high arches of his dramatic cheekbones. His suit was of the highest quality and tailored to perfection to his lithe form. 

In all, he was the very essence of a man born to wealth and upper class. 

Why would he deign to ask her for a dance? The daughter of a mortician, an educated woman, whose best gown was a thrice hand-down, taken in and repaired to the best of Molly’s ability. She believed herself rather plain compared to the coiffed, polished women of the Ton that looked down their noses at her. As if her education was a sully to their sex and made her less. Goodness knows she would be ostracized entirely if they knew her education did not stop at basic nursing.

Despite all her self-doubts, Molly found herself placing her hand in his and being led onto the dance floor. Stopping in the very center, he turned and faced her. Around them, the music faded and the other dancers applauded the musicians. 

His free hand settled on her waist as a lone violin struck up a gentle melody. For several beats, she found herself lost in his eyes. Then they were waltzing, her feet following his lead flawlessly as if they had been practicing for years.

Not a word was spoken between them. None were needed. She lost herself in his arms, trusting him to guide her, and fell into his eyes. 

And when the song came to an end, he pulled her close, bordering on indecent and smiled secretively. 

Raising their joined hands, he kissed her knuckles. “Thank you for the dance, Dr Hooper.”

Her eyes widened at the title. How did he know? A contingency of her earned right to the title and employment, despite her arguments against their ludicrous demand, was that only the hospital board, her father, and select workers at both the hospital and the Met would be aware of her full education and position. 

And now this man threatened all they had established. 

“Do not worry,” he reassured her with a small smile. “You secret is safe with me. I am an admirer of your work. And of you.” 

She flushed at his words, the warm feeling in her chest burning brighter when he brought their joined hands up and pressed a kiss to the back of hers.

“Until the next time.”

She watched as he bowed and then, with a wink, turned and disappeared into the crowd.

“I don’t even know your name,“ she whispered softly as the next song began to play.


End file.
